The Thrill of the Chase
by carpetinflight
Summary: All Harry wants is a chance to get Ginny back... but first, they'll have to escape the paparazzi.


Harry's thumb traced slow circles on the back of Ginny's hand as they walked. The sky was dark above them, but the cobblestones were lit with the glow of street lamps, just damp enough from the afternoon rain to reflect the light. Her skin was warm and smooth under his, and her hand felt like something new and unique after years spent without touching his own.

"I'm glad you came out tonight," Harry said finally, sneaking a look at her from the corner of his eye. "I know you have practice tomorrow and I didn't want--"

"I have practice nearly every day," she said bluntly. "If I let that stand in my way I'd never go anywhere." She squeezed his hand in her own, and he could tell that she was enjoying the unfamiliar contact as much as he was.

Harry laughed a little. "'Spose I shouldn't have waited, then." This -- walking along the street hand-in-hand with her -- felt almost as if they were kids at school again, the way that just a touch of her hand felt so all-important, as if their whole future was riding on just that one bit of innocent contact.

"It's been-- a long time," he said. He knew what he wanted to say to Ginny, eventually. He just wasn't sure what was the best route to get where he was going. Soon, they'd arrive at the restaurant, and it would be full of curious strangers, and he wouldn't be able to say anything.

"It has," Ginny agreed, her fingers dancing out of his grasp and then twisting back to tap against his wrist. "Too long. But I think--"

"I wanted to ask--" Harry said at the same moment, and they both stopped, laughing a little at the awkwardness.

Harry blushed and looked down at his shoes. Things between them hadn't been like this before, had they? He could remember only the natural ease of being with Ginny, her small hand in his, the feeling that she understood him perfectly, the blazing fire in her eyes... Now, though, he was left to search for the right words and fumble for the right meaning.

"I just wanted," he said finally, raising his eyes to hers and glimpsing a bit of the old understanding there, "to say that maybe--"

In the low light, Ginny's skin looked as smooth and polished as the stones underfoot, her eyes reflecting light the same way that the wet cobblestones did. It seemed to Harry that he wanted to kiss her more in that moment than he ever had before. He leaned in slowly, as though pulled toward her by an _Accio_ so strong that he was powerless to resist. Ginny had plenty of time to pull away but instead she leaned up on her tiptoes, her fingers squeezing Harry's own as her lips reached toward his...

A searing flash of light split the night, bright as lightning. For a moment, Harry thought the afternoon storm had returned, until he heard the voices.

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter! Look this way, please! Just a few questions, please -- a moment of your time?" There were at least three of them, the voices accompanied by more popping flashbulbs and the patter of running feet growing louder with each passing moment.

"Who's your friend, Mr. Potter?" shouted one of the reporters, and Harry shifted around so that his body was blocking Ginny's face from the cameras. It would be only a few seconds before they got close enough to see her face; to photograph her with him and publish a bunch of lies about her for the entire world to see. It would spoil the reunion that Harry had been hoping for before it could even begin.

"We've got to get out of here," Harry said, peering over his shoulder at the approaching reporters.

Ginny grabbed his hand in her own again and tugged, pulling Harry behind her into the open mouth of a dark alley. He followed without seeing, trusting Ginny instinctively even though he had no idea where they were headed except that it was away from the cameras.

They dashed down the alley, zig-zagging around overflowing bins and bits of rubbish littering the stones. Harry's left shoe landed in a puddle, which left his steps making a nasty squishing step with each stride. Behind them, he could hear the footfalls of their pursuers echoing down the narrow space. Ginny's hand gripped his own tightly, and although she stumbled a couple of times, she never let go or loosened her grasp.

By the time they emerged into the lamp-lit street again, wet, breathing hard and smelling a little of garbage, Harry had a broad smile on his face.

"Duck," Ginny said, as she let go of his hand.

"Huh?" Harry blinked at her for a moment, closing his fingers on empty space. He managed to obey just as she whipped out her wand and aimed it back down the alley.

"_Impedimenta_," she said, and Harry could feel the fabric of his cloak ruffle in the wind as the spell shot past, missing him by only a few millimeters. He knew she'd hit her mark when a loud crash echoed down the alley, followed by a cry of dismay.

He turned to Ginny with admiration. He'd seen her do similar things a hundred times in the D.A., but he couldn't help being impressed. "A witch learns to defend herself with six brothers," she said with a grin, making a show of dusting off her wand and putting it away. "You're welcome, by the way."

Harry could only laugh. Ginny was standing so close that he might have wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, although he couldn't really, because things hadn't been like that between them since Dumbledore's funeral. Well, besides a few days here and there during the summer after the Defeat, but those didn't really count.

In all that time, Harry had never stopped hoping that whatever they'd had, it wasn't really gone. That one day he'd reach out for Ginny, and like an elusive snitch suddenly revealed, she'd be there. Maybe Seamus was right, and Harry was a romantic sap.

"Thanks," he said, belatedly realizing that he'd been standing there looking at her for a long time. Too long, really: she must think he was insane.

Ginny smiled, and her smile was soft around the edges. "I reckon dinner is off, then," she said, nodding back toward the mouth of the alley. "Too bad. I was looking forward to finally getting --"

_Pop_.

The street lit up suddenly, every detail of Ginny's face illuminated by bright, synthetic light.

"Bugger," Harry said, and this time it was he who grabbed Ginny by the hand and dragged her away down the street, away from their pursuers.

He had no idea where he was going, no map or plan. They were in a residential neighborhood, a place that he'd never been before. With Ginny just a step behind, Harry turned left at a street corner, then right into an alley. Beneath his feet, a paving stone wobbled and he nearly lost his balance, but Ginny caught him, tugging him up and onward with her hand clasped tightly around his, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm.

Behind them, he could hear the pounding footsteps of the reporters, chasing them down like dogs on a hunt. If they were caught... it was a lesson that Harry had learned the hard way, and he knew that his fate would not be much better than that of the captured fox. He could not let Ginny be spread across the front page, lies and vulgar insinuations all around her, distributed to every witch and wizard in the country.

At the end of the alley was another lamplit street, but branching off about three-quarters of the way along was a narrow entrance blocked by a crooked wooden gate.

"In here," Harry said, yanking Ginny's arm as she nearly dashed past. They ducked through the gate into a small brick courtyard, choked with weeds and lit only by moonlight. They stood in a kind of tunnel, a passageway beneath the walls of the house, where the light of the moon did not reach.

Ginny stepped neatly behind the garden gate, and pressed herself against the wall. Harry stood in the small space next to her, his chest pressed against her side. The flowery scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils.

A split-second later, the sound of loud footfalls filled the narrow alley, echoing off the walls and becoming magnified. Harry felt a brief flash of fear that more newshounds had joined the hunt, but as they came closer he felt the panic subside. There were only three of them, still, but they were so close that he could hear them breathe. Only a dilapidated gate separated him and Ginny from certain doom on the front page of the _Prophet_, and probably _Witch Weekly_ and _Quidditch Monthly_ as well.

Ginny's arm shifted, and when Harry looked down he could see her wand extended, polished wood shining in the low light. He shook his head slightly, and at her puzzled look he cupped one hand around his ear in explanation: the reporters would hear her voice if she cast a spell. It was too risky.

Instead, Harry reached across her body with one arm and grasped her wand hand in his own. He was holding her in his arms now, just as he'd imagined earlier, but he tried not to let that distract him -- her warm breath, her curvy body, her soft hair against his cheek -- Harry paid no attention to those things. He didn't even notice them. Not at all.

With his hand wrapped around Ginny's, which in turn held her wand, their magic flowed together, combining forces in the wand itself. Harry concentrated hard on what he wanted, closing his eyes and focusing on the spell. With a swish and a jab, he mentally recited the words of the spell and felt the magic flow down his arm and pass through their joined hands.

A moment later, a warm tingle of magic washed back up his arm. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before, like flying and falling and kissing Ginny all at once. He looked down at their joined hands first, half-expecting to see some golden glow or outward sign of what he'd just felt, but he saw nothing. Raising his eyes to Ginny's, he saw the same surprise he felt reflected back in her face. She had felt it too -- an echo of their magic, combined into one force, dancing along beneath his skin and sending shivers down his spine.

Out in the alley, beyond the gate, Harry heard a set of footsteps patter across the stones, as if a person were running down the alleyway. The steps continued across the street and away down the block. No figure or shadow marked the passage of the sound -- it was only his own unspoken Diversion Charm, but it did the trick.

"There!" one of the reporters said to the other two, his voice quite close to Harry's ear. Their steps followed the phantom's past Harry and Ginny's hiding place and out into the street.

After a moment, Harry stepped out from behind the gate and stuck his head into the alleyway. He looked in both directions but saw only the wet cobblestones and an overturned rubbish bin.

"I think they're gone," he whispered to Ginny.

"Good," she whispered back. She stepped out of the hiding place and then she was right in front of him, her hands raised to cup his jaw. In an instant, she was kissing him, pressing her lips to his, her mouth warm and wet and insistent. There was no resisting her, no denying her, and Harry didn't want to try.

Parting his lips, he opened his mouth and let her in, tasting her kiss eagerly for the first time in years. He wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist and pulled her close, the shape of her body as familiar to him as his own. He'd remembered this a thousand times: the warm taste of her mouth, the feel of her small hands pulling him close, the eager sounds she made deep in her throat...

Too soon, it was over. Ginny pulled away abruptly, leaving Harry with his back against the wall and his mouth hanging open.

"We have to go," she told him. Even in the low light, he could see that her lips were shining, her face flushed and her hair a mess. Did he do that?

"Huh?"

"C'mon," she said, taking a couple of steps away from him, into the alley. "They'll be right back as soon as they realize it was just a Diversion Charm."

"Oh. Right." Harry followed her down the alley, walking a few steps behind in a bit of a daze. He touched his lips with two fingers, surprised to find them still damp from the kiss.

At the top of the alley, Ginny led him left, then right, and down another block until they were in a place that he recognized near the restaurant where he'd planned to take her. He'd had such high hopes for the dinner, had imagined candlelight and romance, a quiet meal together in private where he could finally tell her everything.

Instead, the reporters had showed up and ruined everything. Well, not _everything_...

"Did you just kiss me?"

"No, I kissed you five blocks ago."

"But--" Harry had no idea what he meant to say to her, but it was something like _but I planned a whole conversation first_ or _I thought I wasn't allowed to do that anymore_ or _It was supposed to be _me _kissing_ you.

All he managed to say was, "What did you do that for?"

Ginny stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him, crossing her arms across her chest. "You seemed to enjoy it," she pointed out, her voice level.

"Of course I enjoyed it!" Harry said, his voice rising with the rate of his pulse. "It's just-- I just--"

He stopped, trying to figure out how to put into words what he was feeling. He remembered the times they'd been together at the Burrow, that summer after the Defeat. It had felt like heaven to him: holding Ginny in his arms, kissing her beneath the chestnut tree. And at the time, it had seemed all the more wonderful because he thought it was the start of something that would last forever. But it hadn't been the beginning of anything; those kisses were only moments that would soon pass away, leaving Harry alone again and still seeking.

"I wanted to talk to you tonight, Ginny," he said softly.

"I know, I--"

He reached out and grasped her hand. "I just want to say this, all right? Let me finish?"

She nodded, and he went on. "I wanted to talk to you tonight because I was hoping that we could do things differently this time. I thought-- I thought that there could be more than just kissing in back alleys, and out in the woods, and-- and behind greenhouses." Ginny smiled at the references, but did not interrupt again.

"I don't want to only see you in secret or in dark, hidden places," Harry said. "I want to take you out to nice dinners and go with you to parties and to your games like a real couple does." He stopped talking and let out a long, deep breath. The next bit was going to be hard to say, he knew, but after tonight, it was necessary. "I can't just sneak around with you."

Ginny looked up into his face for a moment before her eyes crinkled up at the corners and her mouth spread open in a wide grin.

"I don't know what's so funny," Harry said stiffly. If this was the result, he was never talking about his feelings again.

"Harry," Ginny said plainly, still grinning in obvious amusement. "What have we been doing for the last hour?"

The answer was obvious: _sneaking around._ "I was protecting you!" Harry said indignantly.

"Yes, from _reporters_," she pointed out. "If you want people to know about us, why would you run away from them?"

"There isn't any 'us' anymore," Harry said. "But if they saw you with me, they'd publish all kinds of lies and you'd never--"

She gave his hand a firm squeeze. "I knew what you wanted to talk about tonight," she told him. "I've suspected for a week or two now, and when you said you wanted to go to the Warlock's Palace I knew it must be something like that."

"You-- I-- You did?" he asked.

"Yes. And I was going to tell you that I feel the same way. It's been a long time, Harry, but I'm ready to have an 'us' again."

"You-- you are?" He stepped closer to her, looking down into her brown eyes. As many times as he'd imagined this night, he had not let himself believe that it would be this easy. All it took was an hour's run through the backstreets of wizarding London.

"Yes," Ginny said as Harry leaned closer to press a kiss to her lips.

When they kissed, everything else fell away and every other sight and smell and sound disappeared as Harry gave himself up completely to the one thing he'd wanted more than any other. The murmur of people passing on the street was unimportant; popping flashbulbs went unnoticed. Ginny was all that mattered, she and the fact that she wanted to be with him.

It was an intoxicating feeling, and by the time they broke apart Harry felt as though he were flying, soaring above the clouds and never coming down. A huge smile spread across his face, and he threw his head back and let out the laugh bubbling up from deep within.

"Come on," Ginny said, her voice quiet and husky. "Let's get out of here."

Harry tightened his arm around her waist and prepared to Apparate her away. "What took us so long?" he asked.

Their bodies disappeared with the _pop_ of Apparition, but the loud peal of Ginny's laughter remained, drifting across the cobblestones.


End file.
